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Despite being praised for his lavish talents, it is general knowledge that there are a few things that the lieutenant truly can’t handle.
But usually, as any normal person would, walking home after a pleasant day off isn’t one of them. The hunt for Lune has taken a lot of his leisure time, even though he’d much rather take a little rest at home. After all, stakeouts are supposed to be customary for police officers.
Not if it doesn’t involve getting lost in a nearby woods at midnight, especially after being chased by underground guttersnipes.
Blows of wind piercing, growing, shouting. There has been a blizzard, but only two particular screams are heard. Nearby trees waggle from the strength of sounds of murderous intents, defying physics. Or probably that’s a part of the blond’s hallucination.
"Okay, Ladell,” William murmurs as he gasps for air, resting both hands on his unsteady knees. “First of all, we are certainly not in Ardhalis anymore." He leans towards a nearby lamppost, raising his head in hopes that the concussion would go away. "Second of all, you’ve almost had the both of us being corpses in whatever the hell you called a 'luxurious restaurant' back there.”
Two high-ranking police of the patrol unit just ran away from a group of gruesome punks.
Two.
High-ranking.
Police of the patrol unit.
Running a few blocks away from criminals, when it should’ve been the other way around.
No wonder the APD hasn’t done shit for 10 years.
Snow falls on his forehead, but all he feels is either confusion, frustration, or the babbling heat of his emerging shame. He rethinks all the reasons he was promoted in the first place to regain his sense of self-worth.
"You mean The Grim Goblin?” The sergeant yawns, “God , you can’t even recall places now?" She steps forward from the small-built pedestrian, taking a peek towards every single direction, making sure they aren’t being followed. All while her fellow so-called partner crosses his hand in.. embarrassment.
“And third of all, most importantly,” the blond adds, sounding like an old english literature teacher. He swallows back a desire to screech, pointing at his partner like she was the criminal (After all, she's the number one culprit).“If they were still after us, I’d happily offer you as a sacrificial lamb-"
“-HA! And you’re mistaken, Willame! This is outstanding!” She skips in a jovial manner, like a child dancing in a playground. “Those dunderheads lost us!”
Not until Kym peers her fellow partner staring in a dead expression. Every single fiber of him saying I'm unconditionally disappointed in you.
“Jealous of my excellent observational skills again, drama queen? Wow, wonder why that title looks good on you.”
William's expression immediately resembles a frozen corpse. “No. We’ve made a bad first impression on those thugs. Wouldn’t be surprised if Hermann considered our demotion.”
“Oh heavens! Can you quit acting like you’ve lost the will to live?”
Although at another loss of words, he considers replying for a slight pride boost-up.
Worst mistake ever.
“Give,” he stutters in disbelief, “me a single reason not to.”
“We didn't die tonight, that’s a start.”
“ALSO, ADDING ON.” He stomps to the centre of the empty asphalt road. “WE, ” his half-screech is enough to scare a murder of crows. A footage of him losing his job is already playing in his head like a cinematic masterpiece. “ARE LOST IN THE MIDDLE OF NOWHERE. IS THAT A START?”
It doesn’t befall him until the realization of his voice echoing all through the area. It travels in a circling, perpendicular axis. The bawl returns with extra squeaks and chirping from nearby animals. He hasn’t prayed for a while, but now, he's mentally kneeling to whatever god there is to let him come out alive. Kym sighs puzzlingly upon the sight of him spiraling into panic, brushing her azure hair to the back.
“Charades, exaggerations, overreactions. It’s not often we’d get to have an adventure in the middle of the night. Even if we died, children would tell legends of two heroes dying in the woods.”
“Children would tell legends of two officers being disappointments,” William replies, heavy hands sliding across his face.
"Oh and another point ," the gentleman continues as he notices that she was going to speak. Hellfire visibly rising from his icy-blue eyes. "I shouldn't have believed you finding a lead on Lune either. You literally found nothing but a hazard. We've wasted an entire day off just to be the ultimate regret of Hughes Hermann."
"Uh-huh, so? That crook-faced scut deserved it. Pick sides."
"DON'T YOU GET IT -" Kym pins her palm to his mouth, frantically hushing as a growl rises from the nearest bush. Their eyes widen and the sergeant proposes running away. Looks like the motherly scoldings have invited a carnivorous (seemingly lovecraftian) monster.
William whispers to prioritize his mom-friend nag, something he initially wants to do before the sight of a huge silhouette walking in front of them. The two duck immediately behind a small rock.
"Just. Listen,” Kym scream-whispers, “complain one more time and I'm leaving you for that lion."
"Lions don’t live in the woods, you brainless -"
"SHHH!"
Crumpled sound of leaves became more obvious for a few seconds before slowly fading away.
But their heartbeats are blaring.
"It's settled, then," the cerulean-haired lady's lips twitch upwards, outstretching her legs. "Can’t wait to tell Lauren your lack of survival skills."
"Can’t wait to tell Lauren that you've mistaken Ardhalis with Africa."
They look like two stranded, penniless drunken officers who don’t really have any idea where they are.There are a few lampposts (In which the only good thing, according to William), indicating there might be life somewhere. Luckily enough, there is no cloud wrapping the star-painted sky. A wonderful, beautifully-created natural light source. Unfortunately enough, Kym notices that.
Competing with the brightly-coloured spheres, The cheerful maiden’s eyes light up as another demonic idea strikes her. “I have an idea, come with me.” She tugs the lieutenant by his collar to walk through the rest of the street.
A series of gigantic fir trees surround them. They march on asphalt built across a forest, known as the natural frontiers of Ardhalis, that’s for certain. That's it , he thinks, one of these ends must lead back home. It has to.
William gets chills from the haunting howls of potential carnivores, bugs buzzing around them (Worst case scenario, they’re venominous). Their 'encounter' seems to have done something horrible to his emotional wellbeing. Trauma and paranoia carpets William's mind. There's no way in Dante's hell he's going to go hunting in his free time again. Trailing mist blinds their sight and senses - at least, for it’s the only thing that can be seen at the end of the road. It contradicts the clear marvelous night spectacle above them. Facing against them, is a mix of grey steam and a dark remote area. It screams danger from every single angle.
It can’t be something good.
Yet she walks in absolute certainty.
“Where the hell,” he murmurs, whimpering, ”are you taking me?”
“To the end of the road.” She points towards the forest. “I have a feeling it leads to De La Rocca’s mansion.”
“I have a feeling we’re going to die.”
“How grim, my dear watson! You dare to disregard my conductory talent?”
"Not the one that’s terrible with a basic sense of direction."
“Well you better change your mind on that, twat .” She raises her arms to double-high-five the moon, hazel eyes fixing on the silver-tinted plate as she drowns herself in a sudden deep, unnerving observation. After a while, she lets out a childlike gasp as if another brilliant idea strikes her. “See?” Kym glances at him enthusiastically, pointing her fingers like a middle-school bully making fun of the nerdy quiet kid. “We’re walking towards the north. I remember the position of the northern star. I know it. I’m absolutely certain of it. Ardhalis will greet us in no time."
An awkward pause.
Her hands are still moving in the air. Rapidly.
William wonders if he should run away.
William wonders if he’s the one going crazy.
With all the courage and the ungodly amount of patience he has, the blond decides to respond. “Considering I’m going to contact an asylum on you, stop.”
“Shut up, I'm doing astronomy."
“DOES THAT SEEM LIKE ASTRONOMY TO YOU, ” the blond shrieks again, raccoons running away from a nearby bush. His mind is a vigorous battle between understandable common sense and a growing pile of insanity in an unfamiliar civil war. He pulls Kym to walk down the opposite side of the road, shouting every single one of his inner frustration. A pretentious british-blond-nice-guy-from-the-soap-operas wannabe, indeed. He should’ve joined the theatres.
----
Only cuffed steps on snow are heard.
Silence bestows upon them in a rather uncomfortable manner. But most importantly, the sergeant is quiet.
Fucking finally.
A part of him wants to break the silence, hating the fact that he wants her to speak and skip around. Hating the fact that he somewhat misses the sound of her screams ringing through his ears.
As William unnoticeably turns his gaze towards Kym, he despises the fact even more that she looks, incoherently, lovely.
Calm, serene, sweet, coffee-colored eyes reflecting the dim snowfall that dances around them in a quiet waltz.
The lieutenant can’t tell why he’s smiling, from the warmth that rises in his chest, or upon the sight of moving spherical-looking golden lights at the end of the road.
Moving lights.
Moving cars.
Finally. God be with me.
Life. Actual signs of life.
He glares back to his so-called companion, mentally making fun of her. Expecting a response.
Kym gives him a pout. "Just admit that you're not able to read stars, dunce. ”
“I can. And you saw a planet, not a star. Only planets wouldn't flicker. It is -” he pats her head, now acting like a motherly elementary school teacher “ - an elementary subject, understood?” (Or possibly the kindergarten's lecturer version of Karen, except he doesn't want to admit it).
“Well, sorry for calling you a know-it-all,” she grimaces, subverting her gaze to the animated lights. “I honestly thought you already knew.”
Although respected by his peers for being humbly assertive, it is not well known that he has a soft spot for music. Mainly, playing a particular instrument. William aspires to be a musician one day, if his father weren’t the former chief of the police.
Consistently trained in classical music, the lieutenant learns to control his emotions that way. Every single melody should match the engraved notes of a musical sheet, faintly accelerating out of inclination would be a dead wish. But lately, things have gone harder for him.
Winter-filtered days slowly become darker, his mother not showing signs of healing any soon, his father working overseas in search of extra income. Snow-scented nights gradually become lonelier, as he restrain himself from burdening anyone with his personal problems. A sudden warm illustration of a memory forms within William Hawkes. Him being taught how to read various constellations, him being taught how to find a way back home without a compass. It is a crucial matter back then, for a child expected to grow as a high-ranking police one day. Perhaps he could protect everyone. Perhaps he could save everyone.
That’s when he starts playing without any sheet music.
He’d retain melodies by ear, freely improving on the black-and-white keys. Sometimes he’d make up his own pieces, never recalling how it would be played again. The lieutenant has a talent of interpreting and memorizing music, and it’s also a thing only few appreciates.
But life works in so many funny ways, scenarios, that someone like Kym Ladell is assigned to him. Free-spirited, unbound by rules. A complete opposite, merry and bright.
He snorts smugly upon the thought, releasing her from his grip. "Well, also, it's nearly midnight, so I can't afford having you running to the face of danger.”
"Oh, caring about me all of sudden?” Kym’s expression softens, giving a genuine smile, despite the freezing atmosphere. “Is this what you meant by making sure my subordinates are all right, again?”
He laughs in response, ushering her to move forward. "Mostly because I know I’d have to go down with you, at least for now."
And the sergeant is an uncertain melody, not in need of fancy accompaniments. Much atonal, not wanting to be interpreted. She scoffs, subverting her attention to their lonely surroundings before declining into another silence. “You’ve dug your own grave, Willame .”
As they keep walking, familiar empty taverns start to expose themselves from the mist.
It is Ardhalis, for certain.
The streetlamps faintly blink as perpetuous snowfall caress empty pavements with glacial stubs that could pierce through their skin. It is unusually quiet, almost remote, as impenetrable wind blows against the cracks of wooden doors, stacks of snow, smearing muffled conversations from late-night diners from afar, like a poem between the lines, painting the bright Ardhalis in a dull shade of monochromatic colours.
At least, no sight of any criminals walking around Greychapel.
It gets quieter, quieter, and the two are still walking in silence.
It’s faint yet firm, as they walk on concrete to somewhere, not-so-unsure anymore. Until another particular sight strikes the lieutenant.
“Is that the bridge?” William proposes in relief, pointing to the front. It’s getting more late, the snow stops falling, yet the fog’s getting thicker. “The bridge, leading to our precinct.” He looks into her eyes, in a way that screams please tell me I'm not hallucinating.
“Whatever it is, it doesn’t look like a ridge.”
“A bridge,” he pinpoints, voice suddenly falling several octaves down. “That’s right. Why did I ask. That’s obviously the bridge. Only you would mistake a bridge for a ridge. Disagree with me all you want, I wouldn’t like being responsible for your dead body. Good night.”
“Okay - “ she shoves her glove-covered to his face “ - pulling the guilt trip card now? You better do that while finding an effective way home, since you have,” both of her hands mimic a quotation mark tauntingly, “ the better sense of direction. ”
“I- wha- I’d basically help you. But we’re so different that I can’t understand you for a bit.”
“True, that I’m always right and you’re always wrong.” She replies without missing a beat.
“ME? WRONG? EVEN NOW? I WAS CORRECT ABOUT THE LIGHTS- YOU DON’T - You know what,” William brushes off every single good thing he’s thought of her earlier, gripping on his final braincell before falling into insanity. “This is the only chance of me getting a decent sleep, Ladell. I’m off.”
(There are three bridges spread across Ardhalis, two of them leading to the eleventh precinct, and only one of them-)
“It’s the bridge leading to the seventh precinct, my dear lieutenant ,” she contorts jokingly, swallowing a muffled laughter. “Since we’re currently at Greychapel, and if you wanted to waste two more hours walking home, I’d let you lead the way,” Kym snorts, walking towards a large chapel that stands near them, leaving William agape in refusal. She comically lies her body below the church’s stairway like a homeless tramp. “I’d rather sleep by the streets than get lost with you again.”
Every single intellectual reply leaves his body,
Ardhalis has three bridges.
Freaking. Three. Bridges. Everyone knows that.
Him, a lieutenant, completely forgetting it.
The only bridge not leading to the eleventh is of Greychapel.
“Never thought I’d say this, but, fine .” William pulls Kym back up as he notices they're getting weird looks from actual beggars. “You’re..” His voice drops even deeper than the pits of hell. “..Right.”
“HAHA! You lose again, Willame ! I lead the way!”
----
A walk back home has never been so chaotic.
William doesn't even know if he wanted to go back home - a slight part of him is grateful that he didn't have to spend the entire day dealing with an inadequate reality. For once, he feels like the same child playing cops and robbers with a childhood friend, except a little happier.
For once, things feel more like a home than ever.
He's never truly told anyone about the boulders stacking on his shoulders. The weight of carrying an entire lifetime at once. He restrains himself from actually depending on anyone.
But she enters his life like a sudden surprise ; exciting, admirable.
Kym Ladell is no sergeant for nothing.
Excellent marksmanship, potential detective abilities, assertive to her subordinates yet respectful towards her fellow comrades. She points out crucial details even the current detective unit wouldn't casually notice.
She's the light that shines through his fractured walls, pillars that don't show the slightest signs of falling down any soon.
William Hawkes shouldn’t be like this.
Yet, he can’t stop thinking about how the fluorescent moonlight shines through the pale cerulean-haired sergeant, honey-tinted city lights illuminating from her very golden eyes, hidden through the smiles and banters she’d scream her lungs out on an absurd night.
Insufferable, yet charming.
William can’t even listen to each of the arguments growling in her wake, about the watermelons she’d ask him to buy the other day - but never did. About the new mission they’ve been assigned to do, and life, in general. Her insults, absurdly, feel like satirical poetry, quoting literary references only few understand.
He curses himself ever thinking of that.
“Bullseye!” Her eyes snap wide at the grand sight of the APD building, breaking the stillness. “Reconsider your need to make fun of my senses, f ailure .”
“That was the first time you were correct. It’s obviously pure luck."
“Oh yeah? What about the other time you proposed spying on Randall? Isn’t that considered stalking? It’s harassment. It’s illegal.”
“Excuse me?! We're almost dead twice tonight, whose fault was that again?"
"Stop looking at me as if I was a bloody murderer, you lured the carnivore. I’m looking forward for a postmortem discovery on you-"
As she continues on with her usual shenanigans, the whispers of his mind gradually grow louder. Little by little, he hears nothing from her anymore. William sighs, escorting her to what he hopes so much to be the Ladell Manor.
He’s never understood what’s gotten into him.
He shouldn’t be like this. The sight of her smiling, talking - the brash sound of her screaming through the adjacent snowfall-
Like a sudden jolt of surprise, the unconscious gets the better of him. For a second, he is vulnerable, almost out of control. Letting out a faint breath, a whisper, genuine and certain.
He lets it out swiftly, cutting her off.
"Oh, and you look beautiful."
Fire pierces on his cheeks as he realizes what he just said.
What the fuck. Did I say that. Did I cut her off.
I definitely said that. I definitely cut her off.
Why did I say that.
Holy shit. No. I'd rather get eaten by wolves.
“What was that?” She asks in a similar reaction, orbs gleaming right into his eyes - as if she just heard a slight whisper, sweet-sounding, or it could’ve been an insult, she’s too afraid to be sure. But she only finds the Lieutenant whimpering, facing away from her. Or he could be succumbing into his own madness. As always.
“Seriously, did you say something?” Kym repeats, in a more upbeat manner. She slides closer to him, not minding the cuffs of snow on her feet. It is insulting of him to cut her off. “Repeat it, so I can laugh at you.”
“Huh? I didn’t say anything,” she doesn’t need Lauren’s ability to know that was a lie. “Can we move on? I’ve had a lot in my mind, I - I couldn’t listen to you properly, sorry.”
(She thinks she came out with more witty ideas to uncover Lune while all she said was about that one watermelon merchant who didn’t give her a discount).
“Oh?” Her eyes light up, hitting his shoulders. William twitches in both fear and discomfort. “Thy dare to not listen to your beloved subordinate here while giving her motivational speech? How gallant! Oh heavens, this poor soul is hurt!” As they finally reach her den, Kym jumps towards the front door before jokingly glaring back. “You’re unforgiven, Lieutenant .”
“Okay -- Okay, just pretend I said something stupid and you don’t want to hear it.”
“Why so?” Kym grins ear to ear as probably satan gives her the idea to tease him further. “Waass it a love confession?”
Oh, she didn’t hear it.
But why is that the first thing that comes into her mind?
His breathing changes - no, he stops breathing.
Shit.
“Drop it down, retard, am I wrong?”
Constant blows pound his chest. “I told you, idiot, I only said the weather was cold. Consider meeting an otolaryngologist.”
“Really?” She exclaims, grinning like a mischievous child teasing their crush in class. “Again, what did you say?” Her stepping closer just makes William want to die right there. “I’m curious, it’s better if you weren’t thinking of any kinds of a Kym Ladell murder agenda again. That'd make you a pretty - no , a not-so-handsome criminal." She strides even closer, fierce eyes demonically staring into his. "Well, NOT to mention YOU haven’t bought the watermelons you’ve promised. Who's a more messed-up human being now?” Their faces are inches apart now, Kym still smiling mischievously. “Or did you say that you like m-”
“Look, if that’s what you’re assuming,” he smiles, gently pushing her away. Voice changing back to his usual pretentious-good-guy tone. “Then I’m going to think that you have a crush on me.”
“WHAT-” Kym breaks out, running back towards her household. “NO, NEVER. NOT EVEN IN MY WILDEST DREAMS.”
"You'll wake people up screaming like that, fool," he reminds. "I said you were beautiful."
She freezes, taking in a few beats to process what happened. Warmth forms within her chest, as she avoids looking at his sky-blue eyes. But that can't be, that's not what the lieutenant would say. "Are you-"
"-No, I'm not sick." William declares. "You asked, so I gave you an answer. Satisfied?"
"You're definitely sick, Willame. Even miracles wouldn’t let you compliment me." Kym tightens her grip on the doorknob, suddenly feeling exhausted from their insane stakeout. "But hey- " her voice rises back to the usual upbeat tone. "You don’t speak like a grandma for once, that's a start."
"Well, you’ve managed to make me a little happier today, despite what happened," he replies with another chuckle, gaze dropping to the ground, still in utter disbelief that they just had the most tiresome day off ever. Maybe, another memory to be cherished. "You didn't get hurt, and I'm unfortunately relieved for that." His eyes darted back into hers, before giving her one last smile. "Is that a start?"
“Maybe you just love proving me wrong all the time.”
“Ha, well,” William smirks in defeat, putting both hands into his pocket. “If I loved doing things with you, I’d be even more terrified.”
Usually, any normal person would bid goodnight before settling a late conversation. Yet they only exchange smiles, a cradling moment of peace and tranquility and sincerity.
The door closes.
They walk in opposite directions.
There is no moon without the sun, yet they’re succumbed in their own shadows. Perhaps that’s a case for another day.
But at least for now, both of them acknowledge the enjoyment they actually feel from one another’s presence, two different melodies in the same piece, unalike stories told respectively.
At least for now, Kym and William are, probably, each other’s favourite problems. Perhaps that’s a start.